


Meeting My Reflection

by justonemoreartist



Series: Meeting My Reflection [1]
Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: BDSM, Elsacest, Elsanna - Freeform, Elsannacest, F/F, Incest, Masturbation, Multi, OT3, Polyamory, Sibling Incest, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 03:57:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1454524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justonemoreartist/pseuds/justonemoreartist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Late at night, Elsa meets a stranger who bears a striking resemblance to her. She learns quickly that this woman is as alike as she is different, and their relationship moves from initial interest to something else entirely. Meanwhile, Anna notices her sister's distraction, and decides to find out just why Elsa is acting so oddly. Contains Elsacest, Elsanna, and Elsannacest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meeting My Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've written creatively in quite some time; usually my writing is more lab write-ups and whatnot. I got into this trying to write smut and somehow everything exploded on me. If it feels jilted, confusing, alternately abrupt and then long-winded, well, trust your instincts. The title is kinda bullshit, too. This fic operates on the assumption that the kiss at the end of Frozen did not happen. Kristoff would be a great person and an awesome bro, despite what I do to him, but him as a character? Ehhhhhhhhh.
> 
> Other!Elsa is based off of depictions of her in concept art as a colder (heh) more villanous person, but I haven't the skill to write that. Also I kind of doubt my construction of her is what Disney was going for.

“…but it is without further ado, for truly the soul of brevity bestows wit, that we begin the discussion of the great Weselton legal system, which has stood the test of centuries across the times. Such an impressive, storied, and complex narrative must start somewhere, for to start anywhere would be to lose the delicate thread of knowledge, and what better place to describe the pinnacle of modern Western legal thought than…”

Elsa’s head hit the desk with a small ‘thunk’. She jerked upright and muttered a small oath under her breath, rubbing her forehead. It really wasn’t fair of her to curse the author of this… _unique_ book, but by God was she tempted; that is, when she was conscious enough to remember that words such as these didn’t simply swim blearily in front of her tired eyes, no, they had to have been penned by someone, first.

She inhaled, exhaled, and resumed where she’d left off. This chapter was only forty pages long: surely she could finish it before retiring for the evening.

“…than the heart of this pinnacle, Weselton itself.”

…she wasn’t going to make it.

“How do hearts have pinnacles? Wouldn’t that hurt?” Elsa giggled as a tiny Anna appeared in her mind’s eye, hands on her hips and face scrunched up adorably in confusion. Anna! That was it! If only Anna were awake now, then the two of them could read it together. She remembered, all those years ago, reading storybooks to her young sister, who, though she could read, would insist upon “big Elsa” reading for her. Cuddled beneath a blanket by a roaring fire, watched by drowsy parents, the pair would tell tales much taller than the ones the books provided, for whenever Elsa would try to keep going, Anna would ask questions or invent more adventures by herself, and by the end of the evening each of the characters had gone on several side quests and received many more riches than they usually planned to. And far more ponies, come to think of it.

 _Maybe I’ll make her a horse ice sculpture._ Not for her birthday, but just because she thought of it and she knew Anna would enjoy it. It was quite fortunate that they had been born to a particularly rich family; if not, the sheer amount of gifts she and Anna now gave one another might put a strain on finances. But how could she not?

She was tugging a clean sheet of paper free, intent on starting at least a rough sketch of some prancing pony, when she heard a small ‘thunk’ and a muffled curse. She blinked, looked down at the still open book, and glanced around. As she suspected, the quiet was broken only by the small pops and hisses of a dying fire, more for light than for warmth. Who else was going to be in her study at- she glanced at the clock, did a double-take, and winced. Oh dear.

“What magic _is this_?”

Elsa whirled, gripping the high back of her chair as she jerked her gaze around the room. There was no mistaking _that_ for the castle settling, or some passing servant in the hallways. That voice…it sounded almost familiar, in a way, but something was off. Like it was spoken underwater, but…?

The voice cursed again, and Elsa’s eyebrows rose. Well! It seems her mysterious stranger was a little more inventive with her vocabulary than Elsa herself. She stood fluidly and pushed her chair aside, striding toward the center of the room and peering into the dark.

“Hello?” she called, glancing around the perimeter of her study, at the bookshelves lined with dusty tomes, at the chairs facing the small couch near the fire, at the monstrous windows that tilted severely into the room, sadly useless on such a cloudy night.

“Ah, finally, life! Take my hand.”

Elsa turned around, frowning. Oh dear. Hadn’t she suffered enough? Did she really need to start hearing voices as well? Or…she thought back to the small glass of port she’d enjoyed after dinner and sighed. She’d avoided spirits for the majority of her adult life, as adding alcohol to an already melancholic ice mage’s system was hardly an intelligent course of action, but after seeing a pink-cheeked Anna slur on and on about how “awschum” drinks could be, well, she could hardly say no to any activity that involved both her sister and sharing. It also gave her an excuse to hold a weaving, stumbling princess tight as they maneuvered down the halls to her suite. And if both women were flushed it would be easy to blame the port. Though a small drink at most, perhaps it had a unique affect upon her system. Pity.

“Must I do everything myself? So be it.”

Elsa laughed, because the situation was silly and she was tired and by herself. “I could help if I knew where you were.”

“Try the mirror.”

Oh. She…wasn’t really expecting a response, let alone an almost logical one. Tentatively, she made her way over to the mirror, which had shifted its position from facing the room to pointed at the wall when Olaf had insisted upon making silly faces at himself until Elsa had actually snapped at him. The heartbroken look on his face was more than enough to make Elsa a little weepy herself, and she’d turned the mirror aside to protect both of them from future outbursts. Now she crept up to its shining back, gripped the side, and swiveled it around.

Elsa started.

She had expected to see herself. The woman that faced her, however, though wearing clothing remarkably similar to her own royal clothes, when she bothered to wear them, was surely not her. Her hair was a braided train that hung loosely; this stranger had spiky locks that flared into a crown atop her head, an actual crown nestled amongst the soft blonde strands. Though both of them had blue eyes and delicate brows, this woman was regarding Elsa with a look that was an odd marriage of bewildered and unimpressed. Elsa was not used to such scrutiny, particularly in the face of such short observation. Oh and something magical was going on, too, which just mucked the whole thing up tremendously.

“Well?” Elsa’s jaw dropped, and she looked dumbly at the hand that was extending out of the mirror, palm up, as if the woman expected Elsa to simply grab her reflection. Surely she was a fool to think that she would do…exactly that. Elsa glared down at her arm, but before she had a chance to begin lecturing it on proper bodily control the stranger tugged on her hand and stepped through.

Elsa stared at her, and yet the woman still held her gaze. And her hand, come to think of it, but as it felt quite comfortable there and had already demonstrated its complete disregard for Elsa’s instructions it wasn’t much of a surprise.

“Welcome to Arendelle,” Elsa said, and this time the woman blinked. Oh, wow, that was an astoundingly stupid entrance line. She could practically see Anna, the Crown Duchess of Awkward, clutching her forehead and groaning. “Could I try that again?” Elsa asked, her voice higher than normal.

The woman pursed her lips, almost looking amused. “Perhaps you’d best not,” she said, slowly. “Besides, you’ve already informed me of one thing: that for all this business with the mirror and crossing, I’ve yet to actually leave my own realm, if this is indeed Arendelle.”

“What?” Oh Lord. That was it; no more port. Ever.

The woman released her hand, and Elsa drew hers to her stomach, feeling oddly bereft. The stranger drew herself up, and Elsa was struck by how the woman exuded an air of command and control. She wrapped herself up in power and confidence just as surely as Elsa did her ice. “Who are you?” the woman demanded of the Queen of Arendelle in her own study.

“I-I beg your pardon?” Elsa responded, affronted. “Shouldn’t I be asking you the same?”

“And yet you didn’t, and so here we are.” The woman folded her hands – gloveless, Elsa noted –together across her regal dress. Regal dress, tiara, a commanding air…that must all indicate that her intruder was some sort of royal from some…distant realm? More distant than simple maps or national lines would indicate, if the mirror moment was any indication.

“Well,” Elsa said, deciding that if she wasn’t going to put an intelligent foot forward – _please just shoot me already_ – she was at least going to be nice. “I’m Elsa-Queen, that is, Queen Elsa of Arendelle. And you are…?”

“You? _Elsa?_ Queen of Arendelle? Of my house and my lands?”

“What? You…you just stepped out of _my_ mirror, you can’t be the queen of my-“

“ _I_ ,” the stranger emphasized the word, “was investigating a magical object that I had been lead to by information left to me by my absent parents. Whether your confusion about your own parentage is even relevant to this argument is-“

“Relevant? I should think my background is relevant! And yet you seem to think-I don’t even know your name!”

The stranger closed her mouth. Elsa’s hands were balled into fists, shaking against her sides, and though she didn’t feel the cold, especially with her icy dress protecting her from sudden temperature changes anyways, she could already feel the ice seeping out of her, the air between the two women taking on a bluish tinge.

“So,” the woman said softly, “you truly are Elsa.” Her eyes were…Elsa couldn’t identify the expression, but it looked almost like longing. Any thought she might have had about it being related to her powers died when the woman lifted her own hand and presented her with a glowing sphere of ice, so perfectly smooth that Elsa was momentarily stunned. She had only ever crafted ice so perfect when she had built her now dormant castle upon the mountain.

“You seem sad. Has your power waned?” Elsa looked back up at the stranger – no, not a stranger, a _peer_ – and opened and closed her mouth several times before she could speak. “No, I…I’m afraid that I’ve never…never really met someone…like me,” Elsa whispered.

The woman regarded her thoughtfully, and then closed her palm, the sphere snuffed out and the light between them dimming. She cleared her throat and seemed to step back into character.

“You are Elsa. I…am known as Janice.”

Elsa paused. “’Known as…?’”

Janice’s mouth, a thin line, quirked up on one side. “Yes. You see, Elsa,” she said, striding past the other woman, stopping behind the abandoned chair, “I used to be like you. I used to be Elsa, too.”

“What?” That seemed to be a recurring question this evening. Perhaps she should just inform the other woman that even monosyllabic words were too difficult for Elsa at the moment and perhaps she should call later, yes?

“I was born Elsa, but became Janice.” Well that just cleared everything right up.

Elsa laughed softly, though unamused by the whole thing. “I’m sorry, I’m confused.”

“So I gathered.” Okay, that was just mean. Janice tilted her head. “But perhaps I am being too forward; forgive me, for I have never felt the need to temper myself, and so never learned.” Oh. That was…oh.

“Tell me of your family, Elsa,” Janice said, draping an arm elegantly over the high back of the chair, the dim firelight tinging the side of her cheek a rosy hue, the rest of her face dark in contrast. It was oddly fetching.

Elsa breathed out heavily. “Where could I even begin? I suppose you know my – or our? I’m not sure – parents, and my sister, Anna-“ She stopped when Janice let out a disgusted breath.

“Anna! That useless, good for nothing little wench!”

“How _dare_ you!” They both took a step back; Janice looking, for the first time, stunned, and Elsa was herself surprised by the forcefulness of her outburst. Any kindred feeling that might have been blossoming fluttered and died when this, this, this vile _intruder_ impugned her beloved sister’s name. Without realizing it, she raised shaking hands, and Janice’s eyes widened. She acted.

Elsa gave an abortive cry as the ice wrapped around her, securing her limbs against her side in a crushing, if not uncomfortable, embrace, a chair springing into existence beneath her as she sat heavily. She huffed, and made to melt the ice, but not a single drop of water formed in response to her command. She struggled against the ice chains, squirming in her seat, and Janice slowly stepped forward, looming above her, her face still cloaked in shadow.

“That won’t do you any good.”

“ _You’re_ not any good, if you talk about the woman I love that way!”

Wide blue eyes met their reflection. Oh. She hadn’t meant to put it quite that way. Granted, every word was true, but their arrangement could lead one to…assume things. Things that were, if Elsa were still blurting out the truth, longed for hypotheticals, and nothing more.

Janice’s eyes narrowed. “It seems we are speaking of two very different women. But that may be expected, given our own differences. What is your Anna like?”

Elsa tried to wrench herself free again, to no avail. “Do you really mean to have a civil discussion while I’m currently _held hostage_ by you?”

Janice lifted a shapely eyebrow. “Is there any other way? You looked as though about to lose control.”

This, Elsa had to admit, was true. For all their talk of love thawing and affection healing, there were still moments when Elsa withdrew from her sister for fear of striking her down once more. Anna had, of course, dramatically demonstrated her own resilience in the face of Elsa’s powers, but Elsa hadn’t lived for years in secrecy behind shuttered doors and windows just to leap happily into the light when her sister opened her arms to her. She could still feel the chains around her hands, her ankles, her neck, the ones that slowed her down, that whispered to her that perhaps it was safer in her cage, and though she struggled gamely against their pull it was an exhaustive effort that she sometimes lacked the strength for. And it was in those moments that she hid herself away, told Kristoff to take Anna out on some grand adventure that she was sure to hear of later at dinner, just so that Elsa could be Elsa and Anna could be Anna and the two of them could be together again when the storm passed.

Janice was still looking down at her, her face an imperious mask, as though waiting for Elsa to burst through and attack her. Instead Elsa’s shoulders sagged, and her chin dropped to her chest. “Yes,” she whispered, “I might have.”

A cool hand lifted her chin, not gently, but not with any violence either; she simply took what she knew to be hers. Janice’s eyes, so intensely blue, bore into hers, and she could not look away. Though glittering with a hardness born of experience, her eyes were not unkind. “Would you prefer to remain like this, for now?”

“Yes,” Elsa said, the word ghosting over her lips. Janice nodded and withdrew. Elsa tried not to lean forward, wanting to chase those fingertips, but her progress was stopped by the chains around her. She settled back.

“Tell me about your sister.”

“She saved my life.”

Janice stared at her, her mouth hanging open, and Elsa might have laughed at such a dignified woman practically inviting flies in if it wasn’t so strange to her that her doppelganger should be so surprised to discover Anna’s love. Elsa almost forgot that it didn’t physically manifest within the very walls of the castle, trickling into the rooms and filling them with light and warmth, radiating out from their clasped hands in waves of affection. Sisterly affection, and no more.

“She-she _saved_ your life? Well, that’s…that is…I can hardly… _well_.” Janice snorted, and this time Elsa did laugh, a breathless little giggle. Janice shot her a look, which only served to make Elsa giggle harder, not just at the other woman’s expression, but at the strange situation she found herself in. Trapped and yet happy for it, laughing at a woman who claimed to be her and yet was silly enough to think Anna was nothing more than kin.

“Are you quite finished?”

“Aheh, I think so. Sorry. It’s just…it’s so funny to me-what is _your_ Anna like?”

“Who do you think christened me?”

Elsa’s giggles stopped. “What do you mean?”

“ _My_ Anna fancies herself a classical scholar, perhaps because those are some of the few books she’d willingly read-“ but Anna loves to read, they do it together all the time now “-and after she learned of the two-faced god, Janus, decided that someone so evil-“ _What?_ “-as me could only exist in a fractured state, one half the sister she thought she knew, and the other a stranger.” She smirked. “I at least had the good sense to accept the feminine version.”

“But, but, does she not love you? And evil, how are you evil? Why would you even accept that name?”

Janice looked at the ground, and Elsa was struck by the fact that this was the first time her questions, or perhaps her eyes, had sent the other woman scurrying away. It made her feel absurdly powerful.

“Do you, too, have a North Mountain?” At Elsa’s hesitant nod, Janice continued. “In my Arendelle, there is a same such peak. It stabs into the sky with such force and majesty that I could only dream of reigning above the world up there.”

Elsa didn’t believe now was the time to inform the other queen that she had almost done the same.

“Down in the villages, they call it many names. God’s Thumb is one designation, the High Peak another, but some call it the Devil’s Outpost.” Janice folded her arms. “Can you imagine why?”

Elsa bit her lip. Aside from her brief glimpses of the people from the relative safety of the castle, and dinners with Kristoff that are usually dominated by whatever Anna wishes to discuss, she has little experience dealing with her more rural citizens. She shook her head.

“They call it that because they are afraid of its power,” Janice said, quietly. “Do you understand that?”

Elsa did. You can’t call a maelstrom out of your own fevered imagination and hope that all will be well when you walk through the castle gates. Whispers follow her like ghosts, telling of a queen who was born with powers, cursed with them, sold her soul for them, and will be the bane of them all if that terrible, that awesome magic is set free to howl at their doors once more.

“I cannot call her ‘my’ Anna, because though we grew up together, I reveled in my power and explored it fully, while she enjoyed her freedom and…normalcy. It drove us apart so slowly and completely that by the time I recognized the gap it was already too wide to cross. The passing of our parents-“ at this Janice sighed, her usually proud head drooping, “-was perhaps the final wedge between us. I found myself unable to attend their funeral, for I channeled my pain into anger, as a creature like me is wont to do, and she never forgave me for the slight, unintended though it was. And I could not find it within me to forgive her, for though my actions are reprehensible, her own are completely indefensible: the woman is nothing but an overgrown girl-child who flits around the halls, causing mischief and ruining all of my well laid plans like some hellish pixie.”

“On some of that we can agree,” Elsa deadpanned, but then grew sober. “But I’m glad to say that some of what you describe is foreign to me. My Anna is…a handful, to be sure, but it’s a handful of summer and crocuses and chocolates all rolled into one.”

Janice looked perplexed. Elsa winced. “It made more sense in my head,” she admitted.

“I’m not sure you’ve been talking much sense.”

“To be fair to me, I’ve had a bit of a shock at 2 o’clock in the morning, and I’m still tied up.”

“Because you enjoy it.”

Elsa swallowed hard. The way she had said it was so…certain. As though she heard the ring of truth before she spoke the line. That overconfidence, that self-certainty, that breathtaking claim was deliriously…arousing? No.

Janice’s eyes were studying her own closely, and Elsa gave a shaky smile. “Aha, well, you know,” she said, lamely, as though that explained everything. She shuffled weakly against her bonds without any real attempt at breaking them.

“Yes, I find it very curious. I confess, were I in your condition, my answer would be intensely violent. I do not take well to being forced into a submissive position.” She drew herself almost impossibly taller and advanced on the captive queen, who shuddered underneath the onslaught of that contained power. Every step seemed to reverberate through Elsa’s bones and echo at her core. Oh dear, this was _not_ the time for this!

Janice gripped Elsa’s chin and lifted it up roughly, bringing her face close to the other woman’s. The ice trapping her shifted so that Elsa was more lying than sitting, her whole field of vision obscured by Janice’s looming body. She leaned closer, and Elsa let out a strangled whimper.

And Janice…paused.

And then withdrew.

Elsa blinked as the ice returned to the form of a chair, her chains sloughing off, leaving her arms and legs bare but for her own ice coverings. She stared up at Janice, who regarded her with a pensive expression.

“I…I thought…”

“That I wanted you? You’d be right.”

Elsa’s breath quickened.

“But though crushing another’s resistance is a pleasurable thing when fighting, I have no interest in such activities as a lover.”

Elsa tried not to let her disappointment seep through, lowering her head.

“When you kneel for me, you shall do so of your own accord.”

She snapped her head up and caught Janice’s gaze, her eyes crinkled at the corners like a cat. She opened her mouth, but no words came. Instead the clock chimed the hour softly. The other queen glanced at it briefly before turning towards the empty mirror. She looked back at Elsa, still seated on her icy chair.

“We will meet again.” And then Janice stepped through, and Elsa was alone.

 

* * *

 

 

In the hours that followed, Elsa remained awake, thinking hard.

She may or may not have had a meltdown.

If she didn’t, that was to be expected. Queens were a particular breed, upright and proper, with correct and noble behavior at every turn. They had neither the time nor the inclination to simply run to pieces. Rather, at all times they displayed the correct mix of quiet grace and dignity.

If she did, well, it might have gone something like this.

“Oh Lord what just happened. Was that really me-or rather,  _a_  me? What the-did I suddenly turn French? What am I going to do? Is this some sort of…magical liability? I can’t just let random beautiful women jump out of flat surfaces all around the castle! That’d be much too fun-IMPROPER-and confusing and how on Earth would I even begin to explain it? She  _hated_  Anna, how could she do that…am I expected to just wait for her to show up again? God in Heaven, when she just… _looked_  at me like that, it, it, it meant absolutely nothing because of course I’m saving myself for marriage. To a man. As I should. As a good, proper queen ought. Oh and what a queen indeed! That power, that control; could I have had that? Could I now? No! This…this train of thought has gone on far enough, I-”

“Could I ride you?”

Elsa yelped and jumped away from her sister, who looked at her bemusedly from the doorway. She hadn’t even noticed Anna’s knock.

“Ca-can you what?”

“Ride your train. It sounded like fun,” Anna said, walking inside and shutting the door behind her. She put her hands on her hips and cocked her head. “Or at least you were getting super worked up, and without me? Really now.”

Elsa twisted her hands nervously in her gown. “S-sorry,” she said, and swallowed. Rallying herself, she released the fabric she was marring horribly. “What did you need?”

Anna blinked. “You weren’t at breakfast-“ Anna’s breakfast, Elsa’s brunch “-so I came here to find you.” She peered suspiciously at her elder sister. “And I found you talking to yourself. You weren’t up all night again, were you?”

“Of course not.” The lie hung between them like a piece of rotten fruit, and Anna’s eyes dropped. “Well, that’s, uh, that’s good. Because I worry, y’know.”

Elsa scrubbed at her gritty eyes with her palms. This wasn’t going as she’d planned. This was true even though she hadn’t planned anything. There was always room for failure.

“I’m glad you’re worried-no, I mean, I’m glad that you care, but really, I’m fine. A few more hours over the course of the week and I’ll be just like new.”

Anna still looked hurt, and Elsa sighed internally. “Do you want to have brunch together?” Anna immediately perked up.

“Gerda keeps telling me that you’re not allowed to have breakfast foods after noon. Do you want to go down to the kitchens and eat some in front of her?” Elsa giggled. Leave it to Anna to find some way to be annoying and cute at the same time.

“Only if we can have hot cocoa, too.”

 

* * *

 

 

Elsa groaned and leaned back into her chair. She twirled her pen around in her fingers, and glanced down at the book.

“In what way is Weselton law superior to other institutions, legal or otherwise? Surely such a question need not be asked, for the answer is readily available simply by placing the lawbooks side by side and perusing their pages. A fascinating discrepancy arises between the two, or the several, that illustrates how those who are not within the fold are outside of the group, intellectually.”

She was beginning to imagine the author’s children had died in a fire. It was the only way she could muster up the pity necessary to keep reading.

“Fascinating.”

Elsa jerked and almost cracked her head against Janice’s, but the other woman had withdrawn too quickly. Suddenly breathing hard, Elsa smoothed down her bodice shakily. “I, uh, yes. Fascinating. Do you like reading on foreign law?”

“I hardly bother. Usually I just conquer someone’s lands and then substitute my own legal system for theirs. I find things easier that way.”

Elsa’s mouth worked like a fish for a moment. That was…a hell of a strategy. She cleared her throat and turned to see Janice making swooping gestures with her hands. Confused by this new method of communication, Elsa slowly stood, and in doing so blocked out the candlelight, and then she saw that Janice hadn’t been motioning to her at all, but rather constructing…something. The air around her hands was glowing with a pale blue, lighter than Elsa’s own, and she could feel the pull of the cold from where she was now.

She drew her chair aside and walked over to where the other woman was and simply watched. Janice moved her hands the way a dancer moved her feet, in swirling patterns that Elsa, despite being the only other with any experience in this matter, could not identify, but found herself drawn to. Wire-thin ice sprouted from the air and grew in shapes that curled indefinitely upon themselves. The end result was a throne that glittered in a million locations, capturing and magnifying the little light present until it seemed to shine of its own accord.

“Now that’s ice,” Elsa breathed, overcome. It would probably be too forward of her to reach out and stroke the armrests, but judging by Janice’s expression, it would not be unwelcome. She instead turned back to her desk chair, intending to turn it around, but stopped at a light cough.

She glanced back at Janice, who was indicating the empty room in front of her with one gracious hand.

“…oh. Did you want me to make one too? I don’t think I could, I mean, that’s kind of a step beyond what I’m capable of.”

“If you cannot craft like me now, then I still expect you to present yourself as my equal, and we shall sit facing each other as such.” Ah. So no real furniture.

Elsa hurriedly raised her hands and waved them at the rug, and a short, block-like chair with crude armrests and a thick back rose into existence.

Janice pursed her lips in disappointment. “Have you really such little control?”

“I’m not very used to creating things.”

“And yet your dress is lovely.”

“It can’t compare to yours, though.” This was true; for all beauty may lie in the eye of the beholder, Elsa’s mosaic dress couldn’t compare to the one that Janice wore. She had abandoned mundane fabric for the robes of a sorceress, and she wore them well. She had somehow managed to twist the ice strands into patterns that alternated in light absorption, so though the overall effect remained blue, it displayed a far greater array of colors, and in more distinct patterns, than Elsa’s dress.

“Indeed. But there still exists a difference in quality between that-“ here she indicated the chair “-and your dress.”

“I made my dress during a, well, manically creative episode when I just…let the power flow through me, and I let it take over.” She smiled, remembering those blissful moments. “I just…let it go, and it came to me.”

Janice’s eyebrows disappeared beneath her bangs. “Then you, my dear, have done one of the few things I haven’t. Perhaps it is for the best that you had such little experience: if I let my power take over in a similar manner, the results could be catastrophic.”

Elsa sat down and looked at the floor. “Not ‘could be’,” she said, quietly.

Janice made a small noise. “I have already described my own situation to you.” Her tone was expectant.

Elsa nodded. “And I’m grateful for that, but…” she trailed off. “My situation is…a little more complicated. Or, at least, I’m not nearly as-“

“Blunt?” Janice offered. Elsa’s shoulders hunched.

“I was going to say confident in sharing.”

“Blunt.”

“…yes.”

Janice chuckled at her, one hand coming up to cup her own cheek. Elsa’s eyes followed the fingers as they stroked the ivory skin, and Janice’s smile grew.

“Ah, there it is. I had wondered if I’d see the hunger again,” the other woman purred, and Elsa leaned back in her chair, as if the cold could protect her against eyes that burned. She twisted her fingers together nervously.

“Wh-why did you say you wanted me?”

“Because I did, and I could see my own desire reflected back at me.” Janice tilted her head. “Do not mistake my frankness for forcefulness: I would not come where I was not wanted, Elsa.”

There was something delicate, even fond about that, but Elsa hadn’t the words to express why.

“I can’t have sex with you,” she blurted out.

“Why not?” Direct, of course.

“Because…I’m the queen. I have a responsibility to produce heirs, to find a husband and marry and…”

Janice lifted an eyebrow, her chin in her hand. “Putting aside those antiquated patriarchal notions of the value of virginity,” she said, and leaned forward, “you seem to be under the mistaken impression that sex requires penetration.” Oh. Very direct.

“It-it doesn’t?”

The other woman laughed, a low, powerful thing, and Elsa felt something stir in her belly. She crossed her legs slowly, trying to be inconspicuous, but Janice’s twinkling eyes indicated the uselessness of her attempt.

“Let me guess: your knowledge of sex stems from books as dry as the one you’re currently memorizing on Weselton law?”

“I’m not memorizing it,” Elsa mumbled.

“And yet you’re always open to the same page.”

“It’s a very long page.”

Janice made a face at her. Elsa sighed.

“You’re right: I don’t have any experience with sex, so-“

“Do you masturbate?”

Elsa’s words died on her lips. She stared, stricken, at the other woman, who seemed totally at ease asking another person point blank if they actually touched themselves for the sole purpose of sexual pleasure.

“You-you can’t just, just _ask_ someone that, like it’s any other question!”

“And yet I did.” Janice was smiling again, that lopsided smirk that made Elsa’s toes curl. “So do you?”

Elsa hugged her arms against her stomach and, when she realized what she was doing, pulled them quickly away to rest on her chair. She swallowed and looked down at her lap.

“I..I tried, when I was..younger.” Her face burned at the admission.

“…and?” Relentless.

“It felt…nice? Too nice: I told one of my maids about my, uh, discovery when I was eleven, because I felt good and, I don’t know, I wanted to share it, or something, and she told my parents, and they took away my books and toys and drawing instruments for two months.”

She chuckled softly, deciding that if Janice could be brave and frank, so could she. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t true.

“That, uh, didn’t really help the whole thing, since it gave me a lot more free time.”

“I can imagine,” Janice said.

Elsa rubbed the tops of her thighs and looked up at her. Janice was waiting patiently, but still poised. It was both endearing and thrilling at the same time.

“But as I got older, and they talked to me more about what was expected of me, I realized that what I was doing was wrong.”

“No, it wasn’t, and they were repressive for telling you as much. But I’m interrupting: continue.”

Elsa nodded. “So it just, didn’t feel right. And since by the time I really began to feel, um, urges, my powers were much stronger, so I didn’t want to take off my gloves even for an hour. I didn’t feel safe without them on, and when I didn’t feel safe my magic just sort of…leaked around me, and I didn’t want to chance that.” She was looking at the floor again, her arms wrapped around her middle.

“You don’t wear them now.”

Elsa smiled weakly. “Not now, but always during council meetings or public functions. I keep a pair in every desk; Anna hates the sight of them, but sometimes if I’m not feeling up to it, I just slip them on and feel better.”

Janice stood and came over to her. She crouched in front of Elsa, who inhaled sharply: she had never looked down upon the other woman before. Janice gripped her naked hands in her own.

“Understand this, Elsa: you have done nothing wrong. Your parents were wrong to take away what might have been one of your few pleasures in life for the sake of their conservative values.”

Her eyes were intense as they held Elsa’s gaze.

“You do not deserve to always be afraid of pleasure.”

Elsa nodded dumbly, and Janice stood, still holding her hands.

“I still wish to have you.”

“But it’s wrong,” Elsa whispered. Her hands fit perfectly within Janice’s.

“Wrong? Tell me, when two people desire the same goal and can achieve it without causing harm to one another or anyone else, how could that be wrong?”

She had no reply ready for that. Elsa frowned, and looked down at their hands. Their fingers had entwined. Janice’s palms were coated with frost, and it slowly dawned on her that she was creating the ice, not Elsa. It crept gently up her wrists and forearms, covering them like a series of kisses, and Elsa shuddered. She looked up at the other woman, who smiled.

“I…I shall have to think about it,” Elsa said. It was the closest to submitting that she dared to go. Janice’s eyes were searching her own, and she must have seen what she was looking for, because she withdrew her hands slowly, trailing a fingertip over Elsa’s palm.

The clock chimed the hour, and Janice turned towards the mirror. Elsa bit her lip, but it wasn’t enough. “Why are you leaving me now?”

“You can’t feel it? Ah, I suppose that makes sense. It seems my foray into your world has boundaries: the way is not open until night, and now I can feel the mirror pulling me back.”

“Oh.”

Janice’s lips twitched – Elsa was under the distinct impression that she wasn’t used to smiling so much – and she kissed her fingertips before flicking them at Elsa. The queen flushed, and Janice chuckled, one foot already through.

“Until the next time.”

“Goodbye,” Elsa whispered when the train of Janice’s gown crossed over. It felt easier to say that to her back, anyways.

 

* * *

 

 

The next few weeks were simultaneously strange, fascinating, frustrating, terrifying and enjoyable. Every night Elsa would lie awake, having altered her sleep schedule to accommodate the visits, and wait for Janice to appear. She’d asked her once why Janice had needed her help the first time but not on subsequent occasions; the other woman had simply told her that she had been invited in and now crossed with ease. Elsa wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Sometimes they spent the entire time just talking, be it on their histories (Elsa was growing more attached to her own Anna, if only because hers had some use beyond general mischief, even if that wasn’t truly fair to her alternate, whereas Janice now knew what subjects she could continue to push on, and what ones required a more delicate touch) or their general knowledge (Janice seemed to prefer calculus to Elsa’s geometry, and attributed her smoother constructs to that fact) or their opinions of things (Janice had a great many opinions, couched in much stronger language, than Elsa did, and even if they disagreed there was something intensely awe-inspiring, listening to Janice monologue about a topic she was passionate about). Sometimes the discussion died and they sat in companionable silence in their respective ice chairs.

Other times, Janice taught her.

She would draw her fingers through the air and pluck objects into existence without so much as a furrowed brow, and Elsa would try to copy her and fail. A thin, trailing ribbon, or a series of bubbles, or even, to Elsa’s surprise, a full-sized claymore. She had never realized just how difficult directed creation was until she was apart from that wild excitement she’d felt when she’d built her castle. Though she did not lack for brief spurts of imagination now, they were few and far between, down here in the hot, muggy air of the city. Janice, though not a kind teacher, did not expect Elsa to simply give up, and had her try again and again.

“It is not enough to create when you want to create, or to follow a mold. You must be able to see possibilities all around you and adapt your mind to them. Your ice need not be static, and neither should you.”

So Elsa struggled, and stumbled, and slogged on, and…improved. She could tell without even looking at her craft from the way Janice’s eyes crinkled at the corners, or she clapped politely after a particularly difficult mimic. It was getting harder and harder to look away. The way that Janice’s hands would linger on hers when she guided her, or her topics of conversation would stray towards questionable matters if Elsa wasn’t careful, did nothing to help that problem.

Janice spent one evening painstakingly sculpting a sort of living armor and impressing the lesson in Elsa’s mind by having her direct blasts of ice at it. They all shattered, and the armor reformed itself in response. Elsa was less impressed when Janice described a means of sending ice crystals across and beneath the skin, so as to connect the external with the internal: what good was armor that hurt you when it was struck? But Janice only laughed and shook her head, and Elsa felt horribly naïve.

So Janice taught, and Elsa grew.

But sometimes, Janice had very different lessons in mind.

Elsa shuddered and gripped the edges of the mirror more tightly. Without the glitter of magic to it, it worked just as a normal mirror, displaying a true reflection, and not a glimpse into another world. So instead of seeing the empty sitting room that Janice always emerged from, Elsa saw herself with Janice tucked up behind her, one hand holding her neck securely and the other pulling her dress up her thighs.

Janice nosed her shoulder, her tongue flicking out for a taste, and Elsa bit her lip. The other woman had spent the majority of their short time together tonight talking about her own background in self-exploration; a much longer conversation than their previous one; and Elsa had been squirming through the entirety of it. She had almost asked her to wrap her in ice chains once more when a laughing Janice had pulled her out of her chair and towards the mirror. Whatever Elsa had imagined her first time to be like, this surely wasn’t it. They hadn’t even gone near the bed, for a start.

“Do you want this?” Janice murmured into her flushed skin.

“Do-don’t you know the answer to that? You, you told me, that-“

“I also enjoy my plays. Now tell me, girl,” and this Janice punctuated with a nip to the muscle “do you want this?” Elsa’s eyes slid shut, and she managed a weak nod.

“Why?”

She should have expected that; Janice always demanded understanding, not comprehension, when the pair worked with ice; how should this be any different? It still involved hands. She choked at the thought.

“Because, be-“ She stopped, the words getting caught in her throat. Janice tilted her head and dragged her tongue up Elsa’s neck. She had not kissed her.

“Should I stop?” Elsa’s eyes flew open. “No!”

“Are you sure? Because I don’t know why I’m doing this.” She stroked Elsa’s thigh through the folds of her dress. Elsa’s throat muscles strained in frustration, and Janice pressed down lightly on her windpipe. The brief denial was enough.

“Because I deserve pleasure!” she gasped. She felt Janice’s teeth bare in a wolfish grin against her pulse.

“Exactly,” she crooned, and drummed her fingertips against Elsa’s hip. The resulting ice swirled around Elsa’s shivering form and then dissipated, and Elsa felt a brief disappointment.

Her entire outfit disintegrated.

Elsa’s wide eyes met her reflection’s, then darted to Janice’s wicked, dark ones over her shoulder. That was as much warning as she received before ice, Janice’s ice, snaked up her legs and arms, pinning them into place even as the trails burned her skin. Her hips stuttered forward into empty air, her eyes glued to the way her naked breasts bobbed in time to her heated breaths. Janice remained clothed.

The hand on her neck began a slow descent, moving between her breasts; Elsa whined; and smoothing down her ribcage, fingers splayed possessively. She watched its movement in the mirror, captivated by the sight of another’s naked flesh on her own. It inched down her stomach, which trembled in response. Her breath caught in her throat the closer it moved to her core, and she was already aching when Janice’s long fingers teased her curls.

“Blonde, hmm? That makes two of us.” Elsa groaned, imagining another mound just like hers, and her fingers flexed against the metal in frustration, wanting to touch. Janice’s fingers slid through the hairs towards their target, and Elsa began to pant. They were so close. But instead of being actually _helpful_ , they decided to divide and simply drag her lips apart. What, oh, oh come on!

“Aren’t you going to touch me? _Please_? I asked for it!”

“No. I’m not going to touch you.” Elsa almost cried in frustration. But she had said the words! And meant every syllable, too. Here she was, achingly wet, wide open – literally! – with a full body flush on beautiful display, and yet Janice wasn’t going to touch her? Why, why did she have to be like that, when Elsa _needed-_

“You’re going to. Right or left?”

“What?”

“Would you like to use your right or left hand?” Oh. _Oh_.

“L-left,” she whispered breathily, and the ice retreated from her arm. She watched it go, amazed, and let her arm drop against her side. If it wasn’t for the ice holding her legs and hips in place she’d be on the ground. She locked her eyes with Janice in the mirror and then gently brought her fingertips to her lower lips. She shivered, and the ice shifted, tilting her hips forward more, exposing her intimate folds fully. It was astoundingly lewd.

“If you’re confused about where to go with this, we can call someone in to help. Perhaps one of the maids? I understand you wouldn’t care for any of the footmen.” Elsa shook her head quickly and bit her lip, sliding a finger gently around the sensitive bud at the apex of her sex, hips twitching when she connected. Her world narrowed down to the edges of the mirror and what it contained: two near identical women in looks and utterly different in temper, yet it was her hand that explored her body, while Janice simply supported her.

“Why are you doing this?” Janice asked lightly. Elsa swallowed and dragged her fingers through the wetness near her core, wanting desperately to press her fingers into that opening but knowing she couldn’t.

“Because I-I deserve pleasure.” She teased her bud again and whimpered.

“Do you like it? Do you like seeing yourself being pleasured?”

The frost on her legs was shifting like a caress; she felt like she was being touched everywhere, even as Janice’s hands remained static anchors. “Yes!”

“Does it make you hunger, to see yourself needing your own touch?” Elsa shut her eyes, and Janice squeezed her throat warningly. No hiding from this. She stared at herself, at the hungry, quivering animal that was mimicking her every movement, and wondered why she’d ever tried in the first place.

She was beautiful.

“Oh God yes.” She-

“Does it make you ache?” Janice hissed in her ear like a Biblical viper, and Elsa licked her lips. She could almost taste the fruit the woman was offering. She whined, looking down at her flushed vulva, and _knew_. Half-remembered lessons of old resurfaced; she was drawing near, even though her pace had never increased, the pleasure and pressure had only continued to mount until she had nowhere else to go but up.

“Oh oh, yes, yes, _yes_.”

“It’s perfect; your body in need. Can you see how ready you are?”

“Unnnnnnhhhh, I-yes, yes I-“

“Well then, can you imagine just how _fucking_ wet I am?”

Janice slapped a hand over Elsa’s mouth just before her head snapped back and she howled, shaking in her grip like a solitary leaf in a winter storm. Tears ran down her cheeks and she shook her head, a whine bubbling in the back of her throat bursting out when Janice released her. She panted and let her head fall back, limp. Janice said nothing, just stroked a hand down Elsa’s throat, waiting.

“Was, was that sex?” Elsa gasped, turning her head. Janice was so close, their lips only inches apart.

“It was whatever you wanted it to be.”

That was exactly what she needed to hear. Elsa relaxed totally in the arms of another for the second time in her adult life, completely spent.

 

* * *

 

 

Thus began a change in their relationship.

There was less talking, if only because they could say the same things with fewer words. The silences stretched for longer, but they were deeper, more meaningful, like ripples in a larger pond. Elsa still sought out her companion’s guidance in many things, not the least of which was her magic, but Janice hesitated longer, and Elsa was more eager to provide her own answers. She was walking backward, holding out her hands, drawing a running Elsa to her, and every night Elsa got faster and faster.

“Oh, oh _God!_ ” She thrust forward, gasping.

She also learned certain things. Like the fact that Janice had suffered through a bad pox in childhood and still bore the scars.

Janice’s ringing laugh was in her ear: she nipped it.

Or that though both of them preferred to wear blue, their favorite color was sea-green.

Her arms were straining; she brought them to Janice’s hips, trying to give herself more leverage.

That, and whereas sex needn’t require penetration, it can be plenty of fun, too.

Elsa canted her hips forward excitedly, and Janice groaned. Her eyes never once lost that predatory gleam. Elsa sobbed above her, gripping the other woman’s hips with hands that bruised.

She’d also figured out the usefulness of useless armor. Or, more accurately, homegrown appendages.

She entered Janice roughly again and whined, feeling every inch of her ice member (“Oh for the love of-it’s a penis, just call it that.” -“C-can I not?”) against her inner walls, clenching down against the intrusion. She’d already come once at the first silky touch against her new flesh, and Janice had called her a little boy without any stamina and told her to get back up already and do something about _her_ needs. Her own cunt throbbed, and she shoved roughly into Janice, imagining herself being filled and stretched until she could take no more.

Even now she was teaching her, directing her hands to where they needed to be, informing her that no, touching her there wasn’t going to do any good, yes, that was the motion she wanted, but no, not right _now_ , couldn’t she learn patience.

“It’s hard,” Elsa grunted with exertion, “to be patient, when, when you keep gripping me like that.” Janice immediately flexed in flippant disregard for what she had just said, and Elsa groaned, dropping her head to the woman’s bare shoulders. Their icy gowns had long since melted to nothing more than damp reminders across their bodies. Janice grabbed the end of her braid and tugged hard, yanking her head up so that she could bite and suck at her neck. Elsa’s gait was becoming increasingly irregular, and Janice tightened her legs around the woman’s lower back, heels brushing against her buttocks. Their breasts were shoved together with every movement, and Elsa was hurtling towards the end with startling abandon. She grabbed at the sheets beneath her, trying to hold onto sanity while it fled her with equal speed.

Janice pulled the braid down and Elsa followed. She pressed her nose against Elsa’s cheek, her hot breath ghosting against it in shallow pants. “So eager for me. But are you really?”

Elsa could feel the delicious strain settle over her lower body, her stomach the seat of a growing pool of pleasure.

“Dying for it, like the perfect, passionate creature I know you are at heart. Such a good girl.”

Elsa shuddered and increased her tempo. Oh God she loved being called that.

Janice, for all her breathy whispers, was as cool as an autumn evening whenever she spoke during sex, a startling contrast to Elsa’s belabored speech, punctuated as it was with gasps and ejaculations of pleasure.

“When you come, will it be my name on your lips?” Elsa’s eyes squeezed tight and she operated on touch alone, staggering towards a towering peak. “Or your sisters?”

That was all it took before she was tearing at the sheets, gasping and panting into Janice’s breasts as she rode out her pleasure in staccato thrusts.

She pulled out and leaned back, and the other woman let her legs fall apart, just watching her lover, propped up on her elbows, her back bowing. Then she was up and moving, pressing Elsa into the mattress with one hand as her legs straddled the woman’s head. Elsa panted up at her.

“You may be finished, but I’m not. Get going.”

Elsa licked her lips and dove in.

 

* * *

 

 

“I just don’t get it! It’s like she’s not getting any sleep-have you seen how tired she looks recently?-but at the same time she’s…happier!”

“Uh, Anna…”

“And don’t get me wrong; that’s great. I love it when she’s happy. She’s happy, I’m happy, everything’s fine and who could want more. Not me, no sir!”

“…please, Anna…”

“But she’ll just totally zone out at the most random times. Like poof! All of a sudden she’s not even there, just, somewhere else? Which makes sense: if you’re not here then you’re elsewhere, and-you totally get what I meant.”

“Totally. Now, Anna, if I could-“

“And it’s great that she’s happy, but, I want her to be happy _with_ me, not somewhere else, and I’m worried, Kristoff, because she’s still so tired but relaxed and I don’t know what’s going on and-“

“ANNA!”      

“…what?”

“Not that I’m not _fascinated_ by your sister’s new…schedule, or whatever, but could you please not rant at me while you’re holding a saw? You’ve already cut Olaf in half.”

“Oops. Sorry!”

“Haha, it’s okay. Look! I’m beside myself!”

 

* * *

 

“Rise and shine, my darling.”

Elsa murmured something in her sleep, and Janice chuckled. She looked down at the woman draped over her desk, a cold cup of tea and several books still open beneath Elsa’s crossed arms. She lifted the edge of one and snorted; no wonder. Her hand paused, and then tentatively came down upon Elsa’s hair, stroking the soft strands.

“Anna,” Elsa breathed, and relaxed more fully. Janice withdrew her hand and turned away. She was almost to the mirror before she stopped.

Elsa’s eyelids fluttered, and she shifted. Something was tickling her nose. She opened her eyes to see the first hint of rosy dawn staining the far wall. The offending article was an icy robe, far more intricate than her own, draped over her shoulders. She smiled blearily and pulled it more tightly around her, her eyes slipping closed again.

 

* * *

 

 

Anna drummed her fingers against her bicep, staring up at the canopy. Usually abed by midnight and asleep by 12:05, she found herself completely wide awake at-she glanced at the clock-nearly two. She had every reason to fall asleep immediately: she and Kristoff had been sawing away at the ice for hours (thereby officially beginning and ending the practice of “Bring Your Princess to Work Day”) and her entire body was clamoring for a rest. But her mind was still ticking like an irritable little hamster banging a tiny spoon against the bars of its cage.

…anyhoodle.

Maybe a snack would help. She huffed and swung herself out of bed. Was that the mattress creaking or her bones? She slowly drew a robe over her nightgown, her arms trembling when she raised the article over her head. It really wasn’t fair how everything got so much heavier when she was already aching: she’d have to tell Elsa about this conspiracy in the morning. Well, later, anyways.

She shivered and pulled the robe tighter around her and slipped out of her room. Thinking about her older sister usually sent her down roads that were best left unexplored. Roads filled with lingering looks, on her part alone, warm embraces that she wished lasted just that much longer, and whispered, giggled exchanges in the night that she wanted to take part in a bed, and not on a couch. Sure, things were _loads_ better than they had been: the fact that Elsa even spoke to her was a surprise sometimes: and she wouldn’t give up her new-found relationship with her older sister for anything, even life itself.

And yet…

It wasn’t that she wanted to let go of one type of love and trade it for another. She never wanted to stop being Elsa’s friend, or her sister. She was happy where she was. She just wanted other things to be, well, _different_. But in a good way. And not in a way that would put Elsa to flight in horror. Which meant she had best just enjoy what she had, right?

Right. Enjoy things the way they were. Although that was difficult, seeing as she was still in pain. Feeling at least forty years older, Anna hobbled towards the kitchen, a woman on a mission.

 

* * *

 

 

Missions were overrated.

Anna glared at the stairs and cursed her new-found enemy. Of course the kitchen had to be in the lower floors, and yet there was no way her knees were bending anytime soon. And even if she did tumble down the steps, good luck getting back up.

She was grumbling to herself, working up to an impressive pout, when she heard the voices. Well, really only one voice, one familiar voice. Ooh, Elsa was up! A light shone out the bottom crack in the door. Maybe she could guilt her sister into sharing some chocolates with her. And convince her to feed them to her. And while she was still dreaming, how about with her mouth?

“Are you sure? I can’t simply leave my people behind-

“Quite. And though I know you are loathe to abandon them, it would be useful for you to exercise your powers in a safe location.”

Anna frowned. Okay, so sometimes her sister read her own letters or speeches aloud, to see how they sounded, and she’d caught her recently talking to herself, but this…sounded like an actual conversation. Not in that the voice was different, but something about the way Elsa spoke…

“I don’t really see a pressing need.”

“Of course not. You have trained yourself to react only to smaller problems if they have nothing to do with you, and ignore your own until they become true crises. If you do not establish your total control over your power and in all matters related, you will be swept aside by those pushy men you call a council.”

“I…well. I suppose that’s true, but couldn’t I just practice here?”

“Until you have dominion over your magic, you are a liability to those around you.”

Anna winced. Talk about beating yourself up.

“That is also true.” This was whispered so faintly that if Anna hadn’t had a lifetime of practice listening at keyholes she might’ve missed it.

“I do not say this to hurt you. You cannot continue to depend upon others to reign yourself in: you must be able to stand alone. Your reliance on your sister is troubling at best and crippling at worst.”

Anna stifled her gasp. This was _definitely_ not like any oration she’d heard Elsa practicing. She had sounded almost clinical, as though describing Anna’s need for her sister as some sort of pox that needed to be examined before it spread. How could Elsa think of her that way?

“I can’t push her away again; she doesn’t deserve that.”

“Nor am I asking you to. What I wish to see is you standing upon your own two feet; whether you wish to walk in front of or beside her is entirely your decision.”

Anna almost squealed at the faint chiming of the clock, and for a moment could have sworn she heard _two_ identical sighs.

“Do you have to go?”

“You’ll be fine. Until we meet again.” There was a soft shuffling, and a bare minute later, the light shining out from underneath the door was extinguished.

Anna sank down against the wall. She didn’t care now about whether she could get back up.

 

* * *

 

 

That morning, Elsa announced to her council her plan to investigate an anomaly she had noticed recently when practicing her powers, and her intention to perform experiments up on the North Mountain, for safety’s sake. The nobles shifted nervously at the mention of their queen’s magic, and hastily agreed that any hiccups in her abilities should be observed and rectified immediately, and her schedule for the week was cleared quickly. Anna, who had demanded entrance to the meeting, stewed in the corner, glaring at Elsa whenever the woman wasn’t looking at her. What was she up to?

“I’m certain Her Royal Highness, Princess Anna, should be able to field any of your concerns during the time I’m gone.” Ohhhhhh she did _not_ just do that. Twenty heads turned her way, and Anna gulped.

“Oh, ye-yes! I’m totally ready for anything you throw at me! Well maybe not throw, because I’m actually not very good at catching things, but I can throw them back at you which…defeats the purpose of you throwing them at me, and…”

Elsa was staring at her with a mix of affection and pain spreading across her face.

“…and I will be just as responsible as my older sister.”

At this Elsa flinched, but as no one but Anna was looking at her, it didn’t matter.

She could totally handle this.

 

* * *

 

Kristoff swore. That had fucking hurt.

He rubbed the back of his neck and bent down to pick up the rock, which was cushioned not at all by a piece of paper tied to it by string. He glanced around and saw what looked like a small figure hurrying off into the darkness. His stomach dropped; he already knew where this was going.

Sighing, he pulled open the note and read anyways.

 

_Kristoff,_

_Going to see my sister. Tell them bandits ate me, or something._

_\- Anna_

 

He smirked. It had only been a matter of time. Still, four days was pretty good. Four more than he’d thought she could manage.

He folded the note up and began the long trek up to the palace. “Royal Deliverer”. He should have known.

 

* * *

 

 

Anna gritted her teeth as she slogged through the heavy snow. She’d ditched her horse at Oaken’s – she no longer trusted equines in the snow – and so her excellent progress up to the mountain had slowed considerably. It unfortunately gave her more time to think than to act, and for someone like Anna that was a bad place to be in. Thinking got her into trouble. So did doing, but actually usually less trouble. If only Elsa knew the trouble mathematics she engaged in: her sister might even be proud of her.

Elsa. It always came back to her.

Elsa was her sun; shining light and warmth upon her with every beaming smile, and Anna was the poor comet who had no other choice than to be sucked into her orbit. Not that she complained. Well yes, she complained, but not about Elsa’s love.

She yanked her leg out of a deep snowdrift and cursed with all the fluency Kristoff had been teaching her – Elsa seemed to think she and the mountain man were spending their time well, poor dear – when her foot pulled completely out of the boot and she lost her balance. Thumping down on the snow, she sighed, and grabbed the boot and tugged. She was going to have a talk with Oaken about the sizes he offered. Not everyone could be as burly as he.

She dusted the snow off her sock, grumbling under her breath about how she was still totally ready for those fiery sands, and then dropped her head down. God, what was she doing? She looked down at Arendelle, the fjordwaters twinkling in the fading light of the sunset, and her heart warmed. It really was beautiful, and yet here she was, running up a mountain in a silly imitation of the first time she’d done so, just so she could find Elsa crafting away happily, enjoying being alone. As in, away from Anna.

What would it have been like, growing up by her side? She couldn’t imagine them fighting: even after Elsa had broken down and told her between sniffles what had happened with the trolls and Anna’s now absent white streak, she knew that any roughhousing would’ve been just play. She could easily see herself accidentally running over Elsa’s toes on their bike, but not outright hating her.

Maybe it would’ve been better that way, she thought, as she shoved her boot on and stood, continuing her journey. At least it was normal for siblings to hate one another. Just as normal to love, certainly. But in the way she wished…? No.

She couldn’t be sure when it had all started; does the storm remember its first breeze? But she had watched, almost on the sidelines, as her feelings swirled out of control until they took on some monstrous form. If she had been a man, unrelated to Elsa, then minstrels and poets would tell tales of her love for the queen for centuries, their notes and words capturing in the purest form her desires. But she was Anna, and this was Elsa, and they were sisters, and any relationship between the two of them could consist only of daydreams. But would it really hurt to indulge…?

Anna stared dreamily into space. She could just picture it now; Elsa, blushing beautifully, twirling a finger through her messy braid, eyes darting between Anna’s eyes and her lips. And she’d lick hers when Anna did, like some perverse reflection. She giggled at the notion.

 

* * *

 

Elsa’s back slammed against the wall and she gripped Janice’s hips with trembling hands. Oh God, already, how did she-

 

* * *

 

Would their first kiss be chaste, or desperate? Oh who was she kidding: this was Elsa! The woman screamed propriety.

 

* * *

 

Elsa bit her tongue as her throat strained against the harsh pressure of fingers. Her breath burned, need coiling in her belly. Janice laughed and-

 

* * *

 

Just the faintest brush, at first. Maybe, if she felt brave enough, she’d flick her tongue out for just the quickest taste.

 

* * *

 

Elsa wailed and tugged hard against the cuffs, her body straining with a heady mixture of arousal and frustration, trying to keep her hips from bucking as Janice’s tongue-

 

* * *

 

Anna clapped her hands to her reddened cheeks, her breath puffing in and out with increasing speed. She felt scandalous, though there was no one here but herself and her own thoughts. Thoughts of how Elsa tasted, if she could even dream of that.

 

* * *

 

“You taste,” Janice drawled, letting it linger on her tongue. “Like me.” Elsa whimpered and tried to thrust herself forward, but Janice denied her with a smirk. “Oh no, darling, first-“

 

* * *

 

Oh, she bet Elsa would be red as a beet! It’d be just like her, to deny herself to her last breath and yet have her body give away her need.

 

* * *

 

“I-I-I _need…_ I need, y-you, I-“ A cruel smile against her lips. “You’re going to have to be more articulate than that. How can you expect me to work with such a statement, really?”

 

* * *

 

She already knew what it was like to cuddle with the older woman, under the pretense of “we’re sisters and I’ve missed you Elsie!” But this would be different – _good_ different – to hold Elsa against her, stroking her hair gently, leaving lingering kisses on her cheeks and nose. Would Elsa, _could_ Elsa, ever submit to that?

 

* * *

 

“Give yourself to me.” She bared her teeth in a wild smile. “Make me.” The other woman’s eyes blazed.

 

* * *

 

And maybe…if she was really good, and Elsa was feeling particularly giving, they could kiss again, and Anna could take it even deeper…

 

* * *

 

“Deeper, darling, I know you can.” The words coming to her through a thick fog that bolts of pleasure shot through. She was unsure now of where precisely she ended and the other began: the blindfold cut off one of her senses just as surely as those commands dragged her down, down further into herself, into the both of them, where pleasure and safety merged and bred-

 

* * *

 

She’d lick inside her, gently at first, to make sure Elsa was still with her.

 

* * *

 

“Are you truly mine, now?” A lingering moan that ended in a sharp gasp.

 

* * *

 

Then she’d explore, sliding her tongue over Elsa’s, sucking and nibbling on those beautiful lips of hers. They’d part with a sigh and hold each other close.

 

* * *

 

“Aaaa _AHH_!” She felt liquid beneath her fingernails. “Oh not yet, not quite, but soon my love.” A long swipe that left her trembling on the edge of a deep chasm. “So soon. So close. So ready; _Elsa_ …”

 

* * *

 

Anna jerked out of her reverie and stared up in surprise at the sight of her sister’s castle. Had she really made it all the way up here while thinking about…about that? She chuckled nervously and gripped the icy railing. What the-? The stairs were quivering.

 

* * *

 

She was shaking, trembling in and out of herself, the edges blurring, reforming, and blurring again, her only anchors points of light against her body, holding her, completing her, keeping her whole and yet still driving her insane and-

 

* * *

 

Okay that was…a little weird. Maybe even a bit crazy, to think that Elsa was doing this. It was probably more of a breeze than anything magical. She stepped forward and began to climb.

 

* * *

 

Her breath was reaching a frantic pitch, harsh gulps of air that did nothing at all; she still _needed_ , and was denied-

 

* * *

 

Anna reached the peak and paused.

 

* * *

 

 _So close, so_ close…

 

* * *

 

She bit her lip. She remembered the last time she’d been here, and Elsa had thrown her out.

 

* * *

 

She threw her head back, crying out-

 

* * *

 

But at the same time, she’d let her in, right?

 

* * *

 

“Fuckfuckfuck _fuuuuuuck_ God I-I-“

 

* * *

 

Anna took in a deep breath, and lifted her hand.

 

* * *

 

She inhaled shakily, trembling on the edge. Just one more _touch_ …

 

* * *

 

Anna knocked.

 

The doors burst open. Anna’s jaw dropped and her face went numb at her sister’s shriek, arm still frozen in place, her eyes glued to the sight of Elsa – chained hands holding her svelte body taut against a jagged, icy throne placed right in the center of the room, bare to the world, thrusting her hips sensuously into the face of a kneeling stranger, her long, shapely legs wrapped tight around those shoulders – in a state of exquisite bliss. Her eyes bulged: Elsa was sweating, and that was somehow the most exhilarating sight of all. Her breath shuddered in the cold. Was that a mirror, off to the side…?

Elsa was shivering, giving off little whimpers and cries, as the stranger stood, revealing a feminine form. She extended her hand, conjuring a handkerchief from the thin, cold air, and Anna’s eyes widened further. Turning, the stranger dabbed delicately at her mouth, which drew into a smirk, familiar blue eyes honing in on the princess. She gulped, trembling.

She felt like the world’s tiniest, horniest little bug.

“Evening, my dear girl,” the stranger intoned, and Anna gasped. That-that was _Elsa’s_ voice! How-how did she-

The woman’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Why are you on my mountain?”

“This is my sister’s mountain!”

“Your sister-oh. Oh. Ohohoho.” The woman chortled. Her lips curled upwards like the cat that had gotten into the cream. Oh Lord that wasn’t even a metaphor.

The woman chuckled and stepped forward. Anna stared at her, too shocked to move, as she came up to her – was she walking like that on purpose? – and dragged a fingertip lightly over her lips. A damp fingertip. Anna choked. Was that _blood_ on her neck?

“So you’re her Anna. Hmmmm, I can see why she’d find you fetching.”

“S-sh-ee what?” Anna tore her eyes from the beautiful woman’s and stared at her sister, looking so small and wilted and _stark fucking naked_ against her throne, and she jerked out of her trance. “What did you _do_ to her?”

“Nothing she did not want me to. But if you are concerned,” the woman drew out the word, her eyes flicking over to the exhausted monarch, “you may take her in your arms and see that she is unharmed. Besides, she usually likes to be held afterward.”

Needing no other encouragement, Anna darted forward and, trying not to think about their… _differing_ states of dress, pulled Elsa fiercely into her arms, wrapping her up tightly. She heard someone’s fingers snap, and Elsa’s arms descended slowly and then clutched weakly at her back.

“Elsa! Elsa, are you okay? I, I saw you-uh, I mean, I heard-um.” Anna bit her lip and froze. Oh. And now she could say that she had tasted her, too.

“Anna?” Elsa’s voice – the real Elsa – was lazy and soft, and Anna drew her head back. She carefully pulled the blindfold off of her and flung it to the side. Elsa smiled dreamily at her, her head propped up against the throne, and Anna swallowed. This was probably not meant as a “come hither” expression, since Elsa didn’t even seem like she’d seen her, but by God did it come close.

“Yeah?”

“Mmmm,” Elsa hummed, and closed her eyes. “Elsa! Elsa, you need to stay awake-“

“She’s not sleeping, child.” She jerked her head to the side to see the woman perched on Elsa’s stairs like the daintiest little thing she’d ever seen face first in her sister’s...between her sister’s legs. She snarled. "What did you do to my Elsa?”

“I slew her with pleasure.” Good God this stranger was making no sense and probably deserved a good thrashing. This called for a lute. Scratch that: she was going to need a six-string quartet for this one. On the other hand, Elsa’s hands were drawing light patterns on Anna’s shoulderblades that were very distracting, and she was nuzzling into Anna’s neck with breathy, contented exhales, and the stranger was so very far away…

Anna gasped as the throne warped and reshaped itself, her legs suddenly supported as a surprisingly downy bed grew into being, cradling the pair of them. She whirled, never letting go of Elsa.

“Stop that!”

The woman’s eyes glittered; she looked enthralled. “That’s not me.”

Anna slowly turned her head back to her sister, who now lay amongst satiny ice sheets, a catlike grin still pulling at the corners of her mouth. She opened her eyes slowly and beamed at Anna with glassy eyes.

“Fascinating,” the woman breathed. “I wasn’t really sure that she could do it. It’s one thing to be told that she could manipulate things to a level far exceeding my own when she relinquished all control, but seeing it-“ Anna gave her a weird look. She’d seen the woman’s expression before, and it hadn’t been on any nobility, that’s for sure.

“Um, it’s a nice bed, but what’s so special about it?”

“What do you feel?”

Anna squirmed. That was exactly what she was trying not to do. If she did, she would be unable to defend her sister from whatever or whoever was plaguing her and instead focus upon the way her naked body was a warm, solid presence against the entirety of her own body. Certain parts of her would like that, but she felt hot enough as is.

Her eyes widened. Heat. The bed was _warm_. The _ice bed_ was _warm_.

“She wanted comfort, so she made it, without laying a framework or seeing what she was doing, and defied all natural laws concerning solid water and heat in the meantime. That’s…incredible. I don’t even have that power.”

“Who _are_ you?”

The woman laughed. “I’m Elsa, but you can call me Janice.” Okay, what the fu-

“Anna?” Elsa asked, and stroked the girl’s cheeks. She was blinking sleepily.

“Don’t worry, I’m right here,” Anna said fervently.

“Stay?”

Anna’s mouth flopped open. She looked back at the useless Janice, who shrugged. Turning back from the very useless Janice, she swallowed and tried to look at Elsa’s eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

Anna saw movement out of the corner of her eye: Janice suddenly stood and grimaced, looking thoroughly displeased. “And to think I had forgotten the time: I offer my sincerest thanks that you were here, Anna. I’d hate to leave her alone.”

“Leave? You’re leaving?” She didn’t understand. Just moments ago she had wanted the woman gone, but now that it meant she would leave them alone she needed someone else beside her.

The woman strode toward the mirror, strode _into_ the mirror, and Anna’s jaw dropped. She paused. “Shelter her: she is in a delicate state. But I’m sure she would rather find herself in your arms than mine.”

Anna let out a tiny squeak. Janice smirked.

“I’ll return tomorrow. Then we can see what you can do.”

Anna had no response to that.

 

* * *

 

She was swimming. She always liked swimming. Was she with Anna? Of course.

“Last one in has to eat a whole jar of lutefisk!”

But they were already in the water. She felt it all around her, buoying her in its warm, wet embrace.

“Don’t freeze the ice, Elsa. You know that’s wrong.”

He was standing in the water, trousers, jacket, medals and all. The storm on his face fell off and entered the water.

“I want to melt it.”

“That’s wrong too. Everything is wrong.”

He kicked a toy castle to her, and she saw a tiny Anna clamber over its tall towers. Wow, look at her go.

“Give that back, you don’t deserve it.” She frowned. Little Anna grew a thousand times larger, a million, until she cradled her against her chest.

“She deserves it, and storms, and chocolates and sunsets.” She nodded.

“No.”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

“Because I deserve pleasure.” Anna grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and shook her.

“Elsa! Elsa!” She squirmed.

“Elsa, you need to wake up. Please!”

Elsa shook her head wearily. She opened her eyes. Anna’s teal ones, enormous only because of how close they were, searched hers frantically. “Elsa, are you okay?”

She blinked. “I’m perfectly fine. Why?”

Anna boggled. “Are…are you serious?” Elsa frowned. Something was wrong. It was too early in the morning for something to be wrong.

“What?”

Anna sat up, and Elsa suddenly felt cold. Huh. That was a weird feeling. She glanced down at herself, perplexed, and then back up at Anna. She froze and stared down at her nude form. “Oh _fuck_.”

Anna laughed weakly. “Yeah, that’s kinda what happened.”

“WHAT? We, we-“

“ _No_ , no, not us, you and Janice, I-oh my God Elsa I walked in on you two.”

“You-you walked in, you, _when?_ ”

“I think I came when you did.”

Elsa felt all the blood leave her face even as Anna turned redder than the brightest tomato. A tomato with twin braids. And clothing, which Elsa was currently lacking while she still lay in her baby sister’s arms. She jerked herself out of Anna’s grip and hastily pulled the blankets around her.

“I’ve already seen it, actually. You’re gorgeous. Have your legs always been that long? I mean, I know they go all the way u-” Anna choked. She forged on. “The point is that you don’t need to hide because, hey, seen it, liked it, _really_ liked it, so…”

“It’s the principle of the matter!”

“Speaking of, what the hell was the matter with you yesterday? You were totally _gone_ , but still there, and I couldn’t find you, and then Janice left, she left us alone, she left me with a you that was here but gone and I, I was so, so…”

Elsa’s hands flew to Anna’s cheeks and her thumbs caught the tears before they could fall. “Oh no, dear Anna, no, I’m fine, I’m right here, shhhh.” She brought their foreheads together and Anna blinked rapidly. She almost laughed at their crazy situation. Elsa was the one who had looked like she’d been brained by a rock and yet here she was comforting Anna. Her heart swelled and threatened to burst.

“So…what was that?”

Elsa bit her lip and drew herself inward, away from Anna. “That was something Janice showed me. She wanted to see how far I could go within myself and I…I wanted the same thing.”

Anna looked at her expectantly. “So, that was something you…enjoyed?”

Elsa nodded quickly. “It’s like you’re flying. Or rather that you’re a part of something that’s flying. You’re the wind, the sky, the air, everything. And it’s all warm and safe and soft, the whole world is, just for you.”

“That, well.” She massaged her shoulder. “I can see why you’d like that. Even if it did give me the heebie-jeebies to see you like that.” Elsa giggled. “What?”

“Heebie jeebies? Really?”

“I’d like to see you do any better! See how well you handle walking in on someone who isn’t you touching your sister!”

The words rang between them, getting bigger and bigger with each passing moment. Anna clapped her hand to her mouth. Elsa stared at her, open-mouthed, and slowly sat up. Anna gasped and flung herself away, towards the edge of the bed, but Elsa lunged and grabbed her around the waist, tackling her to the mattress. She knelt over her baby sister, hands on either side of her head, caging her in. “You can’t just say something like _that_ and try to leave me.”

“I-I thought if I said something like that… _you’d_ leave _me_.”

“No,” Elsa whispered. The end of her braid tickled Anna’s cheek, and her face scrunched up. The look was so wonderfully _Anna_ that Elsa started laughing. When her sister’s plump lips twisted into a frown, she finally gave in and leaned down, pressing her own against Anna’s. Her mouth dropped open immediately and Elsa deepened the kiss, her body sagging down into Anna’s. Her arms snaked around her back, one hand pressing into her spine while the other weaved its way into her hair. Anna moaned into her mouth, and Elsa’s heart thudded. She drew back. Anna chased her, and she nipped lightly at her lower lip, and Anna settled back against the sheets with a sigh. She licked her lips.

“But you’re with Janice.”

“Janice and I are having sex; I’m not sure I would call it love. Not yet,” she admitted, deciding a full truth was better than a half-lie. “But you…I _know_ I love you. And God, even if it hurts how much I love you, and how I do, I can’t stop, Anna.”

“Are you with her because you didn’t think you could have me?”

Elsa chewed on her bottom lip.

“No. But if I didn’t have her, I wouldn’t have the courage to ask for you.” She drew Anna’s hand from her back and intertwined their fingers. “Like I am now.”

“You’ve always had me,” Anna whispered. “You just didn’t know it.”

Elsa suddenly laughed and dropped her head to the bed. Anna nuzzled her ear. “What is it?”

“I just…can’t believe this is happening. I’ll say something ludicrous, and you’ll just respond as though I’ve asked you to tea.”

“Cocoa.”

“Yes.”

Anna scratched at Elsa’s scalp lightly, and her sister hummed in response. “If it helps, I haven’t the faintest clue what I’m doing right now, and it hasn’t quite hit me yet, either.” She smiled weakly. “I’m still in shock from yesterday.”

“I need another flying session,” Elsa mumbled.

Anna took in a deep shuddering breath. “Uh, I dunno about that but…what you were doing earlier looked pretty awesome.”

Elsa lifted her head and caught her eye. She raised an eyebrow. Anna shivered.

“You look like Janice when you do that.” Elsa grinned wickedly.

“I know.”

Oh boy.

 

* * *

 

‘Oh boy’? They were going to need to work on Anna’s mouth. Not that there was anything wrong with it, but…yeah.

“So…when we come down from the mountain, what does that mean?”

Anna kissed her nose. “It means that you and I have new lovers.”

“…and that’s that?”

“And that’s that.”

There were a million things she could say in response to that, and she couldn’t think of a damn one. She liked it that way.

They remained curled up there most of the day, only leaving the warmth of the bed (especially Anna, who quickly discovered it to be the only warm thing about the castle) to snag food and drinks from the ice sled Elsa had brought with her. Elsa began filling Anna in on the details; the magic mirror, their initial meeting and recognition, the bit about how the other Anna was not nearly as “fetching” as this one (she wasn’t sure she entirely approved of that), Janice’s quirks (some) and kinks (many) and soft sides. They were still talking quietly with one another when a shadow fell over the pair, and they looked up.

Janice looked down at them, a salacious smile already blooming on her lips. “I trust you’ve educated your sister thoroughly?”

Elsa smirked back at her, and Anna looked quickly between the two. She swallowed.

“I’m afraid not. I thought _you_ liked to teach.”

Janice strutted up to the bed, and Anna’s jaw dipped lower and lower with each rolling stride. She raised her eyebrows at the girl. “Tell me, child,” she said, as her ice dress fractured into pieces and slid off her curves, and Anna gave a gurgling whine, “do you want to appreciate the Queen of the Ice and Snow?”

“Can we do that now? As in right now?” Anna’s voice was strangled.

Janice’s laughter wasn’t the only sound echoing in the castle that night.

 

* * *

 

Janice pulled back and looked over her handiwork. Both sisters were completely drenched in sweat, and a handful of stains were smeared across the blankets beneath them. Elsa sported a new coat of beautiful lovebites, whereas Anna’s marks trended more towards fingernail scratches. Anna snored lightly into Elsa’s neck, occasionally twitching in her sleep. Poor exhausted dears. Their week had come to a close in the most fantastic way.

And if she had anything to say about it, Elsa would have to engage in routine “practice” sessions in the future. With a little sisterly support, of course.

She leaned down and brushed her lips against first Elsa’s forehead, and then her Anna’s. Elsa murmured and drew Anna closer to her, and Janice smiled. Though she did regret that she could not stay the night, there was something to be said for leaving them with one another.

With one last, long look, she stepped through the mirror.

 

* * *

 

When the pair awoke, they were alone together. Anna slowed down Elsa’s packing process on multiple occasions by insisting on cuddling, but she could hardly fault her for that when it was an urge both of them shared.

They made sure to wrap the mirror tightly and secure it within the sleigh safely: there were three of them, after all, and it wouldn’t do to risk that. When they arrived back at the castle, the council flocked around them, chattering like geese about “so glad you’re both fine” and “should’ve sent a party” and “need to protect our borders” so excitedly that no one noticed the way they were holding hands, the mirror between them.

 

* * *

 

“…and with that, we conclude our initial foray, our introductory exploration, of the superiority of Weselton law in comparison to its silly competitors.”

Elsa blinked, already nodding off, looking forward to joining her already sleeping sister in their bed, Janice having already come, and come, and gone, before she suddenly jerked upright. “Wait, what?”

 _Initial foray_.

Elsa’s breath caught. She hurriedly flipped to the front page.

“Being on the Structure and Function of Weselton Law, Its Comparisons to Its Inferiors, Superiority in Brevity and Succinctness as Seen in Practice”

“Part 1 of 17”

Her eyes bulged.

 

* * *

 

Olaf tsked Sven, yanking the now slimy carrot out of the reindeer’s mouth. “No, Sven-Sven! You’ve already had four this week. I like this one, it’s not as bumpy as the others. You can’t take it.” Kristoff just chuckled at the dopey snowman trying to be assertive. His joints were well lubricated with all that alcohol, and he was feeling particularly warm and pleasant. And to think he’d thought taking Olaf to the pub with him was a poor idea: apparently the snowman’s singing voice was worth more than just a few free drinks, and the mountain man had happily imbibed.

Olaf brushed halfheartedly at the carrot and shoved it back into his face. He jerked his head in a near complete revolution at the sound of breaking glass. “Aaaah, Sven-Kristoff! Book at nine o’clock!”

Kristoff yelped and dived for cover, narrowly avoiding getting beaned by a heavy tome. Stunned, he stared at it for a moment, before looking up at the shattered window.

“And _stay_ out!” Elsa screamed into the night. Kristoff’s jaw dropped open.

“Wha-what did I ever _do_ to you two?”


End file.
